


Meltdown

by Hella_Queer



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, bickering boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hella_Queer/pseuds/Hella_Queer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The heat brings out the worst in people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meltdown

"I'm not hiding from my parents. Why is it so hard for you to understand that I like being with you?"

Gavin, naked except for a pair of boxers, stands in the middle of the small living room in his boyfriend's apartment. It was the middle of summer, and the Austin heat had crept into almost every building in the city. Houses, apartments, stores, schools. The only safe place was the hospital, but with people dropping like flies due to heatstroke, it wasn't very cooling.

However, that's not why Gavin was upset.

He had stayed with Ryan for an entire week, leaving for work and to hang out with friends. But he was always there when Ryan got home. This is usually not a problem. At eighteen, Gavin was now a legal adult and could do whatever he pleased. He called his parents when he was staying over, though, because Ryan didn't want them to worry.

Except this week he hadn't called, or answered his phone when they called. He sent a text to his mother once, but other than that had no contact with them at all.

"You haven't spoken to them since you got here last Sunday," Ryan says, aggressively wiping down the coffee table. "I know you better than that, Gavin. What's up?"

Gavin goes over to the freezer and sticks his head inside. He can feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

"Nothing's up. I'm eighteen, I don't need my mummy to hold my hand anymore."

Ryan sighs heavily, giving up on the subject as well as the table. He collapses on the couch with a grunt, pulling on the collar of his shirt.

"Turn on the air conditioner since you're hogging the freezer."

Gavin flips him off, the ring on his middle finger shining in the light. The ring Ryan gave him, the one he never takes off.

The air is thick with humidity, hard to take in and even harder to get out. Colors start to blend, the images on the television going in and out of focus. Something cold touches the back of Ryan's hand. He wraps his fingers around the can of coke, and doesn't look up when he hears the beep as the AC unit is turned on.

Gavin sits on the far end of the couch, a whole cushion away. They don't speak. Ryan nurses his coke, Gavin sips at his beer, the tv plays on.

It was one of those nights.

~*~

"I am sick of you leaving your shit all over the place!"

Ryan hurls the broken pair of sunglasses forcefully against the wall. He had been trying to clean up, it usually calmed him down when he was in a foul mood. But after slipping on Gavin's shirt in the bedroom, stubbing his toe on his textbook, and stepping on his sunglasses, which were in the damn bathroom, he was ready to explode.

Gavin regards him coldly, a sneer staining his mouth.

"Maybe you wouldn't come across my stuff so often if you bought a bigger apartment."

"I don't need a bigger apartment," Ryan growls. "It's the perfect size for me and my things."

His things. As if Gavin didn't live with him more and more these days.

The words don't go unnoticed, but Gavin doesn't try to dig for more of an explanation. He downs the rest of his beer, wipes the sweat from his upper lip.

"I'm taking a shower," he announces, and pointedly sets the bottle on the floor. He kicks it in the direction of the kitchen and brushes past Ryan on the way to the bathroom. His chest touches his arm, sticky and too hot.

"Don't stand directly under the shower head," Ryan warns, voice sickly sweet. "If you look up you'll drown."

Gavin pours all of Ryan's shampoo down the drain, taking care to leave the bottles in the tub. He fills the sink with shaving cream. The mirror gets a toothpaste mural.

The temperature rises.

~*~

They're playing Scrabble.

Ryan has moved the furniture closer together, and Gavin has covered most of the floor with plates and bowls and spoons.

"Faff isn't a word," Ryan says, voice slow and sleepy. It's almost midnight, but the heat makes it impossible to cuddle. Besides, he can't deal with his boyfriend's issues right now.

"You're not a word," Gavin retorts, replacing the two F's for a C and an E. His hair sticks up in all directions, and there's a flush to his cheeks that does nothing but make him more uncomfortable.

Ryan tries to lean back, but his hand lands in a bowl and he almost goes sprawling backwards on the floor. Gavin snorts, legs twisted oddly as he tries to find a comfortable position. The couch is pressing into his back, he can feel it every time he breathes.

They don't play Scrabble like normal people. Having bought two games, both of them get their own bag of letters and basically spell whatever they can in one minute. Sometimes they flirted, or communicated this way if one of them was sick.

Tonight they fight.

Ryan turns the A in face to asshole. Gavin takes the L and makes it loser.  
E is egotistic.  
Coward.  
Dickhead.  
Arrogant.

Ryan blanks, can't think of anything else with the letters he's been given. Can't make sense of his current situation.

It's beyond hot. The AC unit stopped working twenty minutes ago. His bathroom is a mess, there's shit all over the goddamn floor and his boyfriend is a fucking–

"That's it! I'm done. I'm so fucking done with your shit."

Gavin jumps and hits the board with his knee. Letters scatter, landing in bowls and on plates.

" _You're_ done with _my_ shit?" Gavin speaks slowly, voice laced with contempt.

"Look at my fucking house!" Ryan gets to his feet, gestures wildly with his arms. "You did this. You invaded my space and made a complete mess of things."

"Who the hell invited me here, huh?" Gavin shoots back. "Who wanted so badly for us to live together?"

"If I had known how much of a hassle you would be I never would've suggested it."

"Well if I had known how much of an annoying neat freak you were I would've never asked you out."

Silence.

They stare at each other, sweaty and red-faced and tired. Every surface is too warm and the open windows provide no breeze, no escape. No excuse or lie to save this. Save them.

Almost simultaneously, they kneel again in front of the coffee table and pick up their bag of letters. Ryan moves quickly, placing letters and arranging them accordingly. Gavin works slower, his hands shaking and his placement haphazard.

I can't do this anymore.

**I think we should break up.**

Ryan wants to laugh. For the first time in a long time, they're on the same page. Gavin stares at his own words, then at the ones across from him. Seems things are finally mutual.

Gavin retreats to the bedroom. Ryan puts the furniture back in it's original position. He gets his discarded jeans from under the couch and pulls them on. Then he grabs his wallet and his keys, and he's out the door.

Only then does Gavin come out of hiding. He cleans the bathroom, puts the spoons and bowls and plates in their rightful places.

The silence is worse than the nagging.

~*~

Gavin's entire backside is too hot. There's a wet spot by his neck, and his mouth tastes sweet, like vanilla and caramel.

"I could have you arrested for touching me in my sleep." He mumbles, turning in Ryan's arms to face him. His damp hair sticks to his forehead, and, upon a quick glance, Gavin confirms that the only thing separating them is a thin towel.

"You could," Ryan muses quietly. "But no one else would bring you ice cream at three in the morning."

"My new boyfriend would," Gavin says, voice still laced with sleep.

Ryan moves closer so that their foreheads are touching, his hand moves to his bare hip.

"He wouldn't get it right," he insists. "He'd forget your favorite toppings, complain because you like to make patters with the caramel sauce."

Gavin watches him through half lidded eyes, hands somehow finding themselves in his damp hair. There's a bowl of rapidly melting ice cream on the bedside table, but he can't bring himself to let go and get it.

Ryan trails off, his grip on Gavin's hip tightening just a fraction. A minute flex of his fingers. Barely concealed control.

"I still want to break up with you," Gavin says, even as he wraps one arm around Ryan's shoulders, their chests pressing together, too hot and yet not enough.

"I know," Ryan breathes, and he does. Yet his grip gets even tighter as he rolls on to his back. The towel lay forgotten next to them.

"And I want my new boyfriend to have a bigger apartment," Gavin's nose brushes against his cheek. "And for him to remember every single thing about me."

A gentle breeze blows through the open window, cleansing and pure. The fog like humidity is lifted for a few long seconds, bringing with it the smell of rain.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I'm Ryan."

"Gavin."

Big hands slide up Gavin's back and rest between his shoulder blades.

"If I had to guess," Ryan says, eyes closed like he's thinking. "I would say that your favorite color is blue."

A slow smile lifts the corners of Gavin's mouth. "Impressive. You a psychic or something?"

"Nope. Just lucky I guess."

The V of Ryan's hips are perfect for Gavin's thumbs. Soft, sensitive skin reacting to every touch.

"Are you doing anything this weekend?" Ryan sounds breathless, and his fingers twitch like he doesn't know where to put them next.

"My schedule is pretty open. What'd you have in mind?"

Ryan can't take it anymore. He leans up, lips touching Gavin's for a fraction of a second before the younger man moves back.

"I was thinking of going house hunting. I might need a second opinion."

Green eyes light up, and Ryan's heart does this unhealthy stuttering thing. This boy will definitely be the death of him.

Gavin finally, finally relents and presses his lips to Ryan's. It's soft and hesitant, the kiss, but there's a hidden wall of tension, held together by fraying threads. The kiss won't stay innocent forever.

They'll talk in the morning, a true heart to heart that might take hours.

But, Ryan thinks, his hands holding possessively to his slender hips, Gavin is worth the time. He's worth the effort.

The world can burn and turn to ash, but Gavin makes it worth it.


End file.
